


Black Cherry

by Kipderder



Category: Chris Hemsworth - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angry Sex, Bad ass women, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Breaking Up & Making Up, Chris Hemsworth - Freeform, Chris Hemsworth/Original Female Character - Freeform, Chris gets to be the good guy, Chris is a BAMF, Crimes & Criminals, Crooked Cops, Dangerous men, Dirty Talk, Domestic Violence, Drama & Romance, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, FBI Agent Chris, Female Character of Color, Fist Fights, Friends to Lovers, Fucked Up Love Triangle, Gangster!Tom, Gratuitous Smut, Gun fights, Guns, Handcuffs, Infidelity, International Arms Dealer, Interracial Relationship, Jealous Chris Hemsworth, Jealous Tom Hiddleston, Kitchen Sex, Makeup Sex, Organized Crime, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Sebastian is a bodyguard, Sexual Tension, Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character - Freeform, Tom is a BOSS, Tom is an asshole in this one, Toxic love, Unsavory Characters, nightclubs, secrets and lies, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kipderder/pseuds/Kipderder
Summary: Thomas William Hiddleston—better known as Tommy Guns—is the most powerful international arms dealer in the world. He built his multimillion-dollar empire from the ground up in London, then ruthlessly expanded his domain. Respected by some and feared by many, he sits on his throne in Beverly Hills and rules the West Coast with an iron fist, always keeping a very close watch on his beautiful wife, Sierra. His possessive and obsessive love for her often drives him to do crazy, unspeakable things, so most people know not to fuck with his property. But when a handsome drifter strolls into town and takes an interest in Sierra, killing him doesn’t go as easy as planned, and Tom can’t help but wonder why.





	1. You Don't Own Me

Sierra knew she was in for it the moment she stepped through the door of her luxurious Beverly Hills mansion. In addition to sneaking out of the house, she’d given her bodyguard the day off and decided to block all of her husband’s calls. Three things that made him severely anxious and incontestably livid. They also happened to be the same three things he repeatedly forbid her to do.

“Where were you?” Tom inquired from where he sat, brooding at the foot of the staircase.

His velvety smooth voice dripped with annoyance and his lips were pursed tight as Sierra breezed by him into the kitchen to set her bags down. She knew Tom would immediately follow, and once her heavy load rested on the counter, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

Her husband of two years was a dapper, statuesque Englishman with intense sky blue eyes, perfect copper-toned hair, and sharp, regal features. She often described him as being criminally handsome—emphasis on the word _criminal_—and even when he was in a noticeably sour mood, he still made her love-struck heart want to pound itself to pieces.

“I asked you a question, Sierra. Now where the hell is my answer?” He demanded through gritted teeth, losing what little patience he had by the second.

“Damn, baby, chill. I just went shopping.” She coolly replied, reaching into a bag. “With you in mind, might I add.”

She withdrew a skimpy pair of panties and a matching bra, dangling the brightly colored intimates in front of his face before she tucked them away.

Tom responded with a bitter laugh, not caring that he was coming across as doubtful and suspicious. “Shopping? For five hours?”

“You know I could spend all day on Rodeo Drive. Besides, that trip was long overdue, and since you don’t let me go out much, I decided to make the most of it.”

“Must you exaggerate everything? I don’t imprison you here. You go out plenty, and if I confine you to the house it’s because you pull stupid, irresponsible stunts like this. No one had any idea where you were. You didn’t call or leave a note, you ignored my attempts to contact you, and you went gallivanting around town without an escort. Bloody hell, Sierra, I was worried sick.”

In the beginning, she’d thought his strong, caveman desire to protect her was kind of cute. Now she considered it a nuisance and she had to mentally stop herself from giving him a smart remark. It’s not that she didn’t believe him, because he was definitely serious about his concern for her well-being. The problem was, she knew his worry stemmed from his constant need for control, and she was really getting tired of him dictating every single aspect of her life.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll remember to call next time.” She sweetly lied.

“Do you think I was born yesterday? There isn’t going to be a next time.” He declared.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.” Sierra scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “You _do_ keep me prisoner here. Whenever I do something that you don’t approve of, you ground me like I’m a fucking child.”

“Start acting like an adult and maybe I’ll start treating you like one.”

“Yeah, right, because acting jealous and violent every five seconds is real mature.” She fired back.

Tom glared at her and his lightly stubbled jaw clenched in a way that was maddeningly sexy. “Forgive me, but I don’t know how else to behave when you go sneaking around like a rebellious teenager.”

“I wouldn’t have to _sneak_ if you just let me go out on my own. I’m not one of your goddamn gun trades. I don’t need to be supervised.”

“Well, I beg to differ. Being in the business that I’m in, I’m sure you realize I have countless enemies who would love to get their hands on you. They’ll snatch you up without the slightest hesitation, and if you keep wandering off by yourself, you’re only going to make it easy for them. It’s like you don’t even care about your safety.” Tom said, bridging the gap between them as he heaved an exasperated sigh. “If anything ever happened to you, I’d go absolutely mental. I’d destroy everything and everyone. I’d tear this world apart trying to right that wrong. Is that what you want me to do? Unleash more brutality and carnage?”

Sierra bit her bottom lip and shook her head until her loose ombre curls bounced softly upon her shoulders. Her rebelliousness had gotten enough people killed. She didn’t need another death on her conscience.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re so eager to be alone.” The Brit fretted, running a finger along the plunging neckline of her peach-colored romper.

She knew he wasn’t going to like her response, but she let him have it anyway. “Because you’re suffocating me, okay? Just give me some fucking space.”

“I’m suffocating you?” He echoed heatedly. “That’s the biggest load of bollocks I’ve ever heard! Need I remind you of the square footage of this house? We have space in bloody abundance!”

“You know what I mean.” Sierra replied, rolling her eyes.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t, so you’ll have to elaborate. Give you space to do what? Flirt? Tease? Fuck around on me? Are you screwing another man? Hmm? Is that why you didn’t want Sebastian to accompany you on your little ‘shopping’ excursion?”

She fixed him with the dirtiest look she could muster, despite his towering ferocity. “Don’t start with that shit again, Tom. Like, seriously, _don’t_. I’m not in the mood to go there with you.”

A low growl escaped him as he grabbed her, using unnecessary roughness to pull her voluptuous body flush against his long, lean frame.

“As my wife, you’ll damn well go wherever I decide to take you. I’m done playing games, Sierra. If you were with another man, you’d better tell me right now or there will be hell to pay.” He said, gripping both her chin and the roots of her hair tightly, almost to the point of pain.

“This insecurity of yours is really unattractive.” She boldly remarked, which just succeeded in making him even angrier.

Tom liked to say she had a bad attitude, but it was her sassy, defiant nature that had drawn him to her in the first place. The years they’d spent together made her keenly aware of the effect her mouthiness had on him. It either turned him on or pissed him off, and at the moment, it was doing the latter. His nostrils flared, and calm, barely suppressed malevolence danced behind his explosive eyes as he tightened his grasp and gave her silken tresses a vicious yank.

“Keep testing my patience, if you dare.” He uttered in warning as their faces hovered inches apart.

Sierra winced and tried to pry his hand out of her hair to no avail. “Gimme a fucking break, I wasn’t with anyone!” She shouted, putting up a pointless struggle that he soon brought to an end. Gesturing wildly, she went on to say, “I sneak out to get away from all of this—your security cameras, your guard dogs, your armed thugs, and your incessant tyranny. It’s fucking oppressive and sometimes I just need to be _free_. Why do you automatically assume that I’m cheating on you?”

“Because we both know why your ex-husband couldn’t find you for hours at a time. Don’t we, darling?”

Sierra’s lips parted in surprise at his slanderous reference to how their relationship originated. She had loved Evan and he had loved her, but they had married young and against their parents’ wishes. They did everything they could to make it work. But it wasn’t long before the fairy tale life she thought they would lead succumbed to a harsh reality that included major financial setbacks, unspoken regrets, and nonstop bickering. Sierra had had enough. She wanted an upgrade on her prince charming, even though she refused to admit it to herself. So when Tom magically appeared—older, suaver, smarter, and wealthy beyond compare—there wasn’t a single part of her that could resist him. The man of her dreams had a new name, and inevitably she took it on as her own when she became Mrs. Thomas William Hiddleston, leaving poor heartbroken Evan in the dust.

“Remembering the way we met, aren’t you?” Tom purred as his thumb softly stroked her chin. “It was sheer animal magnetism that brought us together, making us dance as intimately as we did beneath a sea of mirrors and pulsing strobe lights. Do you recall how readily we expressed our desire for one another? With eager tongues, roaming hands, and the filthiest whispered words. And who can forget how passionately we fucked in the backseat of my Rolls Royce, right there in the car park. ‘Twas a glorious sequence of events that happened within a few hours of us exchanging formalities.”

Sierra hated his retelling of that fateful night, hurt and insulted that he could make her sound so slutty and cheap. It was as if he thought she was nothing more than loose hips and wet lips.

“Being the huge whore that I am means I’ll be just as easy for every other guy as I was for you, huh?” She spat, fighting to twist out of his hold. “It’s a wonder you trust me with any man, and you know what, maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I am a whore. Maybe I just go around spreading my legs for whoever wants to climb between them. Hell, I could be fucking JD, Sebastian, and Charlie right under your nose, but since they do such a good job of kissing your royal British ass, you simply choose to ignore it.”

When his palm connected with her face in a ringing slap, she stumbled back in a daze before raising a hand to the vicious throb in her cheek.

Her big brown eyes stared into his menacing blue ones in absolute horror. She’d grown accustomed to his jealous rages and dominant displays of aggression, but this was the first time he had ever struck her. Considering he was getting more controlling and possessive with each passing day, she doubted it would be the last. Sierra supposed she should’ve seen it coming, but she honestly didn’t think he had the gall. Now she knew better. This was a brand new level of low for him, and even though she was dying inside, she was determined not to shed a tear.

“You son of a bitch. I can’t believe you just did that.” She said in a small, shaky voice.

It was her quiet vulnerability that flipped a switch in Tom’s brain, coaxing the kinder, gentler, fiercely protective side of him to the surface once again. He glanced down at the offending hand, noticing it was attached to _his_ arm, _his_ body. Then he gaped up at Sierra’s bright red cheek and turned pale at the sight. Apparently, he couldn’t believe he had hit her either.

Taking a step forward, he reached out to her in supplication. “Sweetheart, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident, I swear.”

“Don’t touch me!” Sierra screamed, shrinking away from him on instinct.

She didn’t know whether she was trembling out of fear or anger, but she was positive that no amount of comforting would soothe either emotion.

“Darling, please come here. Let me kiss it better. You know I would never intentionally hurt you. Sometimes I just…I just snap and another side of me takes over.” Tom said, giving her puppy dog eyes as he tried to justify his unforgivable mood swings. “It’s a horrible side of me to be certain, but I’m working to get it under control.”

Sierra wasn’t the least bit swayed as she shot daggers at him.

“Fuck you and your pathetic excuses. You’re a coward, Tom. A deluded, narcissistic, psychotic fucking coward, and you’ll be lucky if I ever let you touch me again!”

The Brit stood speechless as she ran from the kitchen and upstairs into their bedroom, slamming the door after her. He rubbed the back of his neck feeling something akin to remorse as he gazed out a nearby window. A sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the infinite green grass of their massive, well-manicured lawn. He had crossed an uncrossable line and he didn’t quite know how to redeem himself or if there was even any way at all.

Sierra had been with abusive assholes in the past, long before she met her first husband Evan, and Tom had vowed he would never be anything like them. He’d saved her from drug dealing hoodlums, a shitty apartment, a shittier neighborhood, and the countless struggles associated with leading a working-class life. He was her hero, her knight in shining armor, and he wasn’t going to let a trivial little love tap change that. He would think up a way to undo the damage he had done, even if it killed him.

A few more minutes passed before Tom found himself standing in front of their bedroom door, turning the knob. When it became obvious that she had locked him out, he had no choice but to resort to knocking.

“Open the door, Sierra. Let me in.” He said, keeping his voice soft and low.

When no response was forthcoming, he knocked a little harder. “Sweetheart, words can’t express how sorry I am. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, please just let me in.”

His entreaty was met with more silence. Tom rested his forehead against the wood of the door as he lifted his arms, flattening his palms against the door jamb with a defeated huff.

“Sierra, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I love you more than life itself. You’re beautiful. You’re a queen—no, you’re much more than that—you’re a goddess. And I…I’m an insufferable old wretch who probably doesn’t deserve you. But the fact of the matter is you are _mine_, and as long as there’s breath in my lungs, I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. For without me, you would surely perish; and without you, I would simply die.”

Letting that last three-letter word linger in the air, Tom shoved off of the doorframe in aggravation. For a moment, he contemplated kicking the door in. He didn’t like the distance she was putting between them, but he knew that if he acted on impulse and stormed in there like a wild animal, it would only make her more upset with him than she already was. Giving her some space was undoubtedly the best option. He would apologize again in the morning. By then she would be calm enough to actually listen to what he had to say.

So while his famously stubborn wife continued to give him the cold shoulder, he phoned his confidant and trusted right-hand man Charlie to see what business they had lined up for the day. If Tom had to guess, he’d say he was booked solid for the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening. Being the most powerful international arms dealer in the world didn’t leave much time for leisure pursuits. But it was fine by him because the only pleasure he really indulged in was his beautiful Sierra, and if need be, he could clear his calendar for her at the drop of a dime.

Tom’s schedule was always crazy busy because he was a genius at what he did. He could transport weapons and ammunition to anywhere in the globe—big guns, small guns, even missiles and explosives—moving them in and out of different countries as though they were merely pawns in a game of chess. He supplied whatever his clients required to execute their nefarious plans, smuggling merchandise over hostile borders and into militant territories while staying under the radar like a crafty ghost. Anyone with half a brain that wanted to get guns from one place to another successfully knew they needed his expertise. So he sat down with gang members, mafia dons, crooked cops, wannabe terrorists, and every kind of gun-toting criminal in between.

The Feds were eager to put him behind bars and they were constantly sniffing at his heels, hoping he’d slip up and throw them a bone. But he was too clever to be careless and much too cunning to be caught. They didn’t have a shred of evidence against him to date, therefore he remained untouchable.

A quick chat with Charlie revealed that he had back to back meetings from now until midnight. Since it appeared he would be spending the majority of the day away from home, he needed someone to keep a watchful eye on Sierra. That’s where her appointed bodyguard Sebastian came in.

The ruthless Romanian had been working as a contract killer in Bucharest when Tom approached him offering higher pay and a job that was a lot less messy. With no family or friends to hold him back in his homeland, he gladly jumped at the chance. That was almost two years ago, and within that short amount of time, Sierra had managed to turn a heartless, stoic, almost robotic murderer into a sweet, smiling teddy bear. Tom had seen other women try, but none had succeeded in wrapping Sebastian around their little fingers as tightly as Sierra had. He was like a fuzzy strand of yarn tied to her pinky, being yanked around at her will. Tom was almost embarrassed for the poor bastard, but he didn’t blame Seb for weakening to her charms because he was all too familiar with how enchanting his wife could be. Fortunately, Sebastian was still a total hard-ass when the situation called for it. And when it was time for blood to be shed, his bullets never missed.

Tom dialed Sebastian’s number and he picked up after the first ring. He knew he was already in hot water over letting Sierra wander around Rodeo Drive on her own and he probably didn’t want to get himself in deeper trouble. The Brit liked to punish his men by docking their extremely generous wages and putting them on guard dog duty, which they all positively hated.

“Yeah, boss.”

“How fast can you get to the house?” Tom inquired, making his way downstairs just as Charlie walked through the front door.

“If I hop on my bike I can be there in fifteen.” Sebastian replied.

“Perfect, do that. I’m up to my neck in meetings with potential buyers and Sierra is being…difficult, for lack of a better word. She’s locked herself in our bedroom and god only knows when she’ll decide to come out.” The Brit informed him. “I want tabs kept on her. If she exits the room, that’s all well and good, but she is _not_ under any circumstances allowed off the property.”

“You got it, boss.”

“Call JD and tell him he’ll have to get someone to cover her shift at the club. She doesn’t leave the house tonight unless it’s on fucking fire. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir, absolutely.”

“We’ll talk about your little fuck up later, now get a move on. Charlie and I won’t take off until you get here.”

Sebastian arrived in exactly fifteen minutes and he came strolling in with his motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm. After he and Charlie fist-bumped, he accepted his usual twenty-ounce can of Red Bull from the Hiddleston’s oh-so-efficient maid, Olga. Then he turned his attention to Tom and awaited further instructions.

“It should be a pretty easy night for you. Just set up camp outside our bedroom and keep your eyes and ears peeled. Make sure she doesn’t do anything foolish.” Tom said as he straightened his tie and adjusted his cufflinks. “My last meeting shouldn’t last too long, so hopefully I’ll be home by 12:30.”

Sebastian simply nodded before he headed upstairs to man his post. He waited until Tom and Charlie left, and when he saw that the coast was clear, he knocked on the door to let Sierra know the big bad wolf was gone. She promptly emerged, giving him a sweet little smile despite her swollen right cheek and misty red eyes.

Sebastian figured she’d locked herself in her room because she and Tom had gotten into another argument. But none had ever been so terrible that she’d walked away bruised and crying. She looked so vulnerable and distraught, and it angered him that someone who claimed to love her had upset her this way. He studied her carefully to make sure there weren’t any other injuries, then he took the curvaceous beauty into his arms and squeezed her in a gentle hug. She looped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as tightly as she could in return, burying her face in his shirt with a quiet sniffle.

He wasn’t surprised that his boss had raised a hand to her. Sierra was a feisty, outspoken, independent woman and Tom was a temperamental control freak, so her pretty face was bound to meet his wrath sooner or later. The power-hungry Brit did a lot of despicable things and now it seemed he could add smacking his wife around to the horrendously long list.

“No more tears, okay, _păpuşă_?” Sebastian said as he tenderly stroked her hair. “Let’s put some ice on that and then maybe we can torch some of that asshole’s clothes. I don’t think he’ll miss ‘em.”

Sierra looked up at him and smiled wider. “Okay.” She gladly agreed.

After they nursed her cheek, they raided Tom’s enormous walk-in closet like a couple of bandits, picking out some of his most expensive suits and ties to toss on the fire. Sierra felt a little better as she stood in the backyard with Sebastian watching her husband’s stuff go up in flames. She boldly suggested they blow up one of his fancy cars, but Sebastian promised her they’d save that particular activity for a rainy day.

“You know what, Seb, you’re like my brother from another mother.” Sierra said, glancing up into his striking blue eyes, which were currently reflecting the sunset.

“And that’s a good thing, right?” He asked, still not too familiar with American terminology.

“Oh yeah.” She replied, taking hold of his hand. “In this cold, cruel world…it’s a great thing.”


	2. The Best Part of Making Up

“So what was the fight even about?” Sebastian asked.

It was a few minutes after eight and he and Sierra sat across from each other at the massive dining room table, polishing off the delicious meal Olga had made. No matter what the jovial Swede prepared, she always outdid herself, and tonight’s culinary masterpiece had been no exception.

“The usual.” Sierra replied, pausing to take a sip of her wine. “I did something he didn’t like or said something he didn’t like. Who knows, maybe this time it was a combination of both.”

Sebastian’s scruff-lined jaw clenched as he sat in silence for a moment. He stared down at his empty plate, balling the hand he had up on the table into a tight fist. Clearing his throat, he asked in a low, deceptively calm voice, “At what point in that undoubtedly stupid argument did he decide to hit you?”

Sierra met her bodyguard’s intense blue gaze and saw that he was still pissed. He’d been making threats on her husband’s life all evening, muttering in English and Romanian about how he was going to reward Tom’s callousness with a slow, painful death. Sierra found it rather amusing. The swelling in her cheek had already gone down, but Sebastian just couldn’t seem to get over it. He kept asking her if she was okay and staring at her face like he expected the bruising to come back ten times worse. Sierra thought it was sweet that a cold-blooded assassin such as himself detested any sort of violence against women.

“Let’s see…” She said as she absently rubbed her cheek and recalled the little dispute from earlier. “I believe it happened right after he implied that I’m a whore. I made a remark about fucking his trusted employees just to get under his skin and that’s when he fucking snapped.”

“That was the reason? God, what an asshole.” Sebastian growled, shaking his head in disbelief. “He loses his temper over the most ridiculous things. How can you stand being married to him?”

“How can you stand working for him?” Sierra quickly countered.

“Technically, I don’t. It’s more like I work through him for you. And you can’t really compare our roles. I’m not around him enough to have to put up with him. You’re the douchebag’s wife.”

She gave a curt nod of agreement. “Exactly. That means I’ve learned to tolerate all of his bullshit. Being married isn’t easy, Seb. If it was, there’d be no such thing as divorce. You just have to take the good with the bad and force yourself to roll with the punches…even if the punches become literal.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” He muttered, twisting his handsome face into a frown. “You’re a strong, independent woman, Sierra. I know you’re not gonna sit back and stomach that kind of abuse. Living in the lap of luxury is nice—especially when you’re not used to it—but no lifestyle is worth any amount of pain and suffering.”

“It’s not just about money, Seb. I love him.”

“Yeah, but does he love you?”

“Of course he does. He’s crazy about me.” She replied, cringing inwardly at her word choice.

Sebastian folded his arms across his chest, looking somber and doubtful. “Love doesn’t blacken your eye.”

“He didn’t blacken my eye.” She mumbled over the rim of her wine glass. “Now you’re just exaggerating.”

“Not by much.” He replied.

After that, the room fell quiet, loaded heavy with tension as they stared across the table at each other.

“You could always just leave him.”

Sierra’s brows raised at the statement, surprised at how personal the conversation was getting. Sebastian hadn’t always been easy to talk to, and as a form of hired help, he didn’t like to overstep his boundaries. Obviously, a lot had changed in two years. He had grown genuinely protective of her and even if Tom fired him tomorrow, he’d still break necks and crush skulls for her. He was like the big brother she never had and that’s why she felt comfortable opening up to him.

“Do you really think he’d let me?” She scoffed. “The only way out of this marriage is in a body bag—either he dies or I do. There is no other option.”

“You do realize you’re talking to a hitman with over 275 confirmed kills? If you’re saying you want out, I’ll take care of him for you, free of charge.” Sebastian told her.

“You shouldn’t say shit like that out loud.” Sierra said, glancing around for hidden spy cams. “Knowing Tom, he probably has this whole place bugged.”

“His own house?”

“Hell yeah, his own house. The king doesn’t spend a lot of time at home, but he still wants to know what’s going on in his castle. It makes perfect sense. Come on, dude, think about it. Don’t be obtuse.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He laughed, finally lightening up.

“Honestly, Seb, what do you know about Tom other than the fact that he’s an arms dealer?”

The Romanian shrugged. “I know that he’s a prick with a beautiful wife.”

Sierra just rolled her eyes and leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Tom’s taking antipsychotic medication for his self-proclaimed ‘paranoia’ because he refuses to accept the fact that he’s fucking bipolar. In addition to being irritable, obsessive, and remarkably insecure, he has major trust issues. His family has always treated him like dirt. His older brothers used to beat the shit out of him for fun, sending him to the hospital on a regular basis. His mother’s a stuck up bitch who refused to show him any affection and constantly told him that she wished he’d never been born. Then you have his father, a perverted old bastard who slept with every single girlfriend he ever had, and kept a private collection of sex tapes entitled _Daddy Does It Best_. Those evil fucks are supposed to be his blood and look at what they did to him. Who can blame him for being neurotic? He’s had a very hard life and his head is all screwed up.”

“Everyone has their sob stories.” Sebastian said flatly. “He can’t help who he is—fine, I get it. His past shaped him into a nutcase and I don’t have a problem with him being a fucking nutcase. He can act as psychotic or paranoid as he wants to, as long as he treats you like a lady. Coming from a dysfunctional family doesn’t give him the right to smack you around.”

“Jesus Christ, Seb. Are you gonna bring that shit up every five minutes?” Sierra huffed, combing a frustrated hand through her brown and blonde tresses. “So the asshole slapped me; it’s not the end of the world. It was a bitch move on his part and it hurt like hell, but I’m over it. I’m not gonna leave him or put out a hit on him because he made one stupid little mistake. He’s my husband and I love him. Sometimes I _hate_ that I love him, but I love him nonetheless.”

Sebastian heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry for making a big deal out of it. It’s just that…I don’t like seeing you hurt or upset.”

“I know.” Sierra smiled.

“As your bodyguard, it’s my job to protect you from everything and everyone, and that includes him.”

“Yeah, I know.” She said, smiling wider. “You take your job very seriously and I appreciate that.”

“Well, it is a pretty sweet gig.” He admitted, flashing the tiniest grin. “But hopefully one day you won’t need me. Hopefully one day you’ll end up with someone worthy of calling you his wife. You deserve better than him.”

At this, Sierra’s smile faltered. Evan had definitely been that someone, but as it turned out, he was _too_ damn good for her. She wasn’t worthy of him and cutting him loose had been the only way to save him from falling victim to her toxic ways. She and Tom made a better match. They were both damaged goods and wounded souls belonged together.

“Do I?” She wondered aloud.

Baffled by the question, Sebastian furrowed his brow, causing adorable little creases to dance along his forehead. “You think you don’t?”

Sierra chewed her bottom lip and tucked an ombre curl behind her ear, noting that it was more gold than honey. Sebastian was definitely becoming a close friend, possibly even a guy she could trust and confide in. But she wasn’t about to dump all of her hang-ups on him in just one night.

“I think it’s time to change the subject. Let’s go watch a movie.” She suggested.

The buxom beauty chugged the rest of her chardonnay as dainty as could be. Then she jumped out of her chair and raced around the table to snatch Sebastian from his seat. He let her tug him to a standing position, but pulled her back in his direction when she tried dragging him to the living room.

“What?” She asked, giggling cutely as she bumped into his rock-hard chest.

“You sure you’re okay?” He inquired, lifting her chin up to hold her twinkling gaze.

She breathed in the subtle scent of his cologne while he searched her face with his razor-sharp, bright blue eyes. If she gave him enough time, he’d probably uncover every secret she’d ever kept. That’s how piercing his stare was.

“Yeah, Seb, I’m fine.” She assured him, gently removing his hand from her chin. His concern for her was heartwarming, but the last thing she needed was a Romanian shrink. “Stop your worrying.”

“You did this to me, you know.”

“Did what?”

“Turned me completely fucking soft.” He replied with a gorgeous full-blown smile that probably made female knees weak. Since Sierra was married, her knees stayed locked tight, but even she had to admit Sebastian was incredibly attractive. And all girls loved a guy who could speak a foreign language.

“You feel pretty damn solid to me.” Sierra said, patting his sculpted biceps for emphasis. “Now come on, we’re gonna grab some more wine and watch a movie. With any luck, one of the two will help us forget about the events of this crappy day.”

So they snagged their wine glasses along with a chilled bottle of pinot grigio and snuggled up on the couch in the living room. Sebastian agreed to watch anything that wasn’t a romance or a musical and Sierra didn’t do horror flicks. So they settled on a comedy classic and laughed their way into the midnight hour.

Sierra fell asleep towards the end of the second movie, so Sebastian turned off the TV, scooped her into his arms, and carried her upstairs.

Nudging her bedroom door open with his foot, he walked into the lavish master suite, which was sensuously decorated in the darkest sable black and the deepest cherry red. Low chandelier lighting set the mood and the scent of amber hung in the air like a powerful aphrodisiac. The heady fragrance pulled him in and wrapped him up—its essence thick and sweet, soft and warm—reminiscent of the woman currently dozing in his arms. As he strode further into the cavernous room, he saw that candles matching the seductive color scheme were scattered everywhere. Even though they were unlit, they added an erotic feel to the undeniably sultry atmosphere.

Tom didn’t strike him as the lovey-dovey type, but this room was clearly designed to promote all kinds of romance. Everything from foreplay, to roleplay, to fucking, and making mad, passionate love on silk sheets and rose petals. Framed pictures of the Mr. and Mrs. adorned the walls, but even without those personal touches, you would be able to tell the room belonged to a married couple.

Not wanting to wake Sierra, Sebastian went into stealth mode, moving slowly and quietly in order to put her to bed. He bent to draw the covers back and placed her underneath them, then tucked her in using a level of care he didn’t know he was capable of until that very moment. It gave him hope for a peaceful future with a wife and kids and some semblance of normalcy. But the loaded gun strapped to his side was always there to remind him that he was a dangerous man who lived a dangerous life surrounded by predominantly dangerous people. Men like him never found peace, no matter how hard they scoured the earth looking for it.

“Sleep tight, _păpuşă_.” Sebastian said, whispering the Romanian word for “doll” into Sierra’s hair before he kissed her temple.

He removed himself from the room with a wistful sigh, cutting the lights, and closing the door behind him. Then he plopped onto the accent chair that sat just beyond the threshold and pulled out his phone to keep busy until his boss returned.

Tom got back shortly after one in the morning and he trudged up the grand staircase looking smug but mentally drained. That usually meant business had gone well. He brought with him a stunning bouquet of roses and a giant, heart-shaped box of chocolates—small tokens of apology meant to assist him in smoothing things over with his wife.

_How cheap and fucking cliche._ Sebastian thought as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and climbed to his feet.

The Brit approached him with a frown. “Don’t tell me she’s been holed up in there all bloody night.”

“No, she came out right after you left. We had dinner and watched a movie, then she took herself to bed.” Sebastian reported.

He wanted to rub Tom’s nose in the fact that _he_ had put Sierra to bed, but it was late, and he was too tired to deal with the jealous tirade that would undoubtedly ensue.

“She’s sleeping soundly now. And I think you’ll be happy to know that you didn’t leave any permanent damage. At least not on her face.” Sebastian added, glaring angrily at his employer.

Tom released a sinister chuckle, taking a step forward as he looked the younger man straight in his eyes.

“Thanks for the update.” He said, both his posture and his words oozing perfect British snobbery. “You’re a good lad, Sebastian, and probably one of the best marksmen I’ve ever had on my team. We don’t get to interact much and all I know about you is what's written in your file. Yet I trust you with the most precious thing I own: my beautiful Sierra. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Silence filled the hall in answer to Tom’s question and he just shrugged like he’d been talking to himself. “Hmm, well…people do say I’m fucking mental.”

After adjusting the items he was carrying, he took another step forward, successfully invading Sebastian’s personal space. The Romanian’s jaw clenched and his teeth started to grind, causing the harsh sound of grating enamel to echo inside his head. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was being intimidated, but despite his murderous scowl, Tom showed no signs of backing down.

“You’re not Sierra’s first bodyguard and I doubt you’ll be her last. You are, however, the first one she’s actually grown fond of, and her happiness means the world to me. But if you think that gives you some kind of immunity, you’d better fucking think again. I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you dare cross me. I don’t give a shit how many confirmed kills you have, you’re fucking disposable just like all the rest. So I’d be more careful if I were you because developing feelings for my wife is not part of your job description.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a low growl. He had enough money stashed away to not care about losing his job. What he did care about was Sierra and her safety, and no one was more qualified to protect her than him. So he forced himself to play nice with her dickwad of a husband.

“Is there something else you’d like to say to me?” Tom asked when Sebastian continued to stand there, staring him down.

_Yeah, hit Sierra again and you’re a fucking dead man._

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.” The Brit taunted, holding a hand up to his ear. Only silence greeted him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Go home, Sebastian. Get a good night’s rest…or maybe get a cute girl to fuck so you won’t be tempted to fuck mine.”

Tom then stepped around him, roughly clipping his shoulder as he went by to retire to his bedroom.

Sebastian stood out in the hall breathing heavily for a few seconds before he tore down the carpeted marble stairs and out the front door. He put on his motorcycle helmet and revved his bike, knowing that as soon as he got home, he would pull on his boxing gloves and unleash hell on every punching bag he owned.

When Tom woke up, Sierra’s side of the bed was empty. He groaned and glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was only 8:30—much too early for her to be sneaking off anywhere. So he climbed out of bed to shower, brush his teeth, and shave. Then he traipsed downstairs, following a delicious medley of smells to the kitchen, where he hoped to find his beautiful wife.

He sighed in relief when he spotted her over by the coffeemaker, helping herself to a cup. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Olga stood in front of the six-burner stove working her magic over various pots and pans in an effort to make breakfast for everyone because literally _everyone_ was there.

Charlie’s presence came as no surprise. The blond Brit lived in the Hiddleston’s guest house because Tom always needed him for one thing or another and it was convenient having him nearby. As Tom’s business consultant/financial advisor, JD was also expected. Whenever Tom shook hands on a new deal, the two men sat down and made sure everything measured up. They also talked about Black Cherry—Tom’s exclusive LA nightclub—but those discussions were often brief because the Brit knew JD had that area completely under control.

Tom didn’t expect to see Sebastian—at least not this early in the day—or Olga’s cheeky young nephew, who bartended at Black Cherry along with Sierra. His name was Bill, but Sierra thought he needed a cool club moniker because Bill was, as she so eloquently put it, “a fucking nerdy white boy name.” So she dubbed him “Skar” since his surname was Skarsgård and it just kinda stuck. Now the only person that called him Bill was his aunt.

“Good morning, Mr. Hiddleston.” Olga cheerfully greeted. Tom could be in the foulest mood and her sunny disposition never wavered. It was mind-boggling. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Would you like some coffee while you wait?”

“No, thank you.” He replied as he sauntered into the kitchen with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Looking good, Mr. H.” Bill complimented, eyeing the older man’s physique with a cocky little grin.

Tom had learned long ago that Bill was outspoken and marvelously open about his sexuality. He fucked both men and women but tended to be something of a heartbreaker. He led his lovers on with his big blue-green eyes, full, pouty lips, and remarkably pretty baby face. Somewhere between the mixed drinks, clever come-ons, and steamy cab ride home his conquests fell in love. Unfortunately, after Bill got what he wanted—however many times he wanted it—he kicked the poor souls to the curb.

Tom knew he was never _ever_ going to become another notch in Bill’s bedpost. So if the playful Swede wanted to flirt, he would take it all in stride.

“The gym is a wonderful place.” Tom replied, making sure his towel was secure. “Shouldn’t you be helping your aunt with breakfast?”

“Uh-uh, she said I deserve to rest. I worked a double shift last night because the sexy bitch that was supposed to relieve me decided it would be cute to not show up.” He said, flashing a teasing smile at Sierra who stuck her tongue out at him.

JD chuckled from behind his newspaper and Tom couldn’t help joining in. Only Bill could get away with calling his wife a bitch, whether he attached the word “sexy” or not.

Focusing back on the object of his desire, Tom moved away from the island where all of the guys sat, to the counter Sierra was leaned up against. Now that he was concentrating solely on her, he saw that she looked absolutely radiant and he had to stifle a wanton groan. She was all glowing caramel skin, soft, tumbling curls, and utterly sinful curves—a sight that immediately made his cock stir. Her gaze was lowered as she nursed her cup of coffee, stealing small sips, and blowing gently at the rising steam. It was a completely innocent act that made him insanely jealous, only because he wanted those luscious lips blowing him.

She was similarly underdressed, wearing fuzzy black slippers and a powder blue nightie that left very little to the imagination. Tom knew she was purposely flaunting herself and he wanted to go ballistic. He was almost tempted to rip his towel off and cover her up with it, then haul her gorgeous ass upstairs. But he bit his tongue and suppressed the urge, deeming it best not to have another argument right on the heels of the last one.

He stood directly in front of her, allowing himself the simple pleasure of drinking and breathing her in. He was able to tell that she was fresh out of the shower due to the intoxicating scent of her body wash. Coconut frosting, the manufacturers called it, like it was meant to be licked off of whoever bathed in its decadent cream. Tom’s mouth watered at the thought.

“You look even more beautiful than usual.” He said, sweeping his eyes over her collarbone before dropping them to her breasts. They were natural double Ds that could drive any man to total distraction.

Tom swallowed hard and forced his eyes up to her face, trying not to dwell on the juiciness of her tits or the inches of velvety skin that stretched from her ankles to the juncture of her thighs.

Since Sierra didn’t respond to his flattery, he asked her a question that he hoped would appeal to her traditional sense of romance.

“Did you see the flowers and candy I bought you?”

He waited a few seconds for some kind of reply, but she ignored him still.

“Honestly, Sierra, the silent treatment?” Tom mumbled. “I said I was sorry and I swear to never do it again. When are you going to forgive me?”

She didn’t answer or bother to look up at him. She just kept on sipping her coffee, pretending she didn’t hear him even though he stood right on top of her. Desperate for her attention, he reached out to touch her face.

“Don’t.” Sierra hissed, aggressively smacking at his hand. She pushed past him and moved to the opposite end of the counter, heaving an annoyed sigh when he followed after her.

“How long are you going to punish me like this?” He asked, noticing that all other conversation in the kitchen had died.

Of course those nosy fuckers were listening in. Who wouldn’t when they had front row seats to the endless drama that was his married life? Up until that point, they had only ever seen Tommy Guns—the cool, calm, and collected crime boss who spit in the face of authority and struck fear in the hearts of men. Now they were seeing Tom Hiddleston—the frustrated, remorseful husband who was all but pussy whipped, standing in a towel amid an audience of his staff, looking like a total schmuck. He was tempted to fire every last one of them, but good help was so hard to find. Therefore, he went on with the show.

“What do I have to do? What more do I have to say to redeem myself? Dammit, Sierra, talk to me!”

He grabbed at her again and she shrieked in protest, slapping him hard across his face. You could hear a pin drop after that. Then the tomblike silence was broken by Tom’s harsh, heavy breathing.

“Everybody out.” He uttered, his voice dangerous and low.

When it became obvious that no one was moving, Tom shot a fearsome glare over his shoulder to see everyone frozen in place.

“Did you not fucking hear me? I said get out!” He roared.

Suddenly they were all in motion, scurrying like frightened ants.

“Charlie, keep them in line. No one gets back in here until I say so.”

“No problem, boss.” His second in command replied, ushering everyone out of the kitchen.

Sebastian was the only one who resisted, pushing back against the Brit who was trying to eject him from the room. Their shoes squeaked loudly on the polished tile floor as they fought to overpower each other.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Charlie.” The Romanian growled. “I don’t have much of a conscience, but I do have a fucking heart. I’m not just gonna stand by and let that asshole abuse her.”

“Oi, take it easy, mate. What sort of monster do you think Tom is?” The blond said as he struggled to hold him off.

“He hit Sierra yesterday and he’s about to do it again.”

“Hey, they’re married, shit happens. But no one’s getting abused, you silly wanker. I’ve seen them fight enough to know how this is gonna end. Sierra’s just settled the score, which means they’re about to kiss and makeup…big time.” Charlie assured. “It’s gonna get all kinds of hot and heavy in here. Unfortunately, we don’t get to watch.”

Sebastian pondered that bit of information, letting Charlie’s words sink in. If anyone had the inside scoop on the Hiddleston’s relationship, it would be him. He was more than just a right-hand man, he was Tom’s oldest and closest friend. He also spent the most time in the house, so odds were he knew about everything that was going on, whether it was behind closed doors or not.

“Fine, but you better not be lying to me.” Sebastian said. “‘Cause if he fucking hurts her, I’m kicking both your asses.”

After another quick glance at the bickering couple, he allowed Charlie to escort him out. They strolled down the hall to the living room and parked themselves in front of the TV to wait for re-entry to the kitchen like everyone else.

Tom stared down at Sierra and every sleek muscle of his naked upper body glistened, still damp from his shower. She pretended not to notice or care, but she couldn’t quite seem to avert her eyes, and her breaths became noticeably shallow. They stood close, but not too close. There was enough space between them that no part of their scantily clad bodies were touching. Based on Sierra’s stony expression, she preferred to keep it that way, but Tom wasn’t having it.

His movements were slow and deliberate as he took Sierra’s coffee mug and placed it on the counter. Then he caught her by the wrist and brought her hand up to his face. He applied pressure to her pulse point, forcing her fingers to uncurl so he could flatten her palm against the stinging red patch on his cheek. When she scowled and tried to snatch her hand back, he tutted at her insolence and effectively tightened his grip. A smirk too sexy to be denied played at the corners of his lips as he moved her hand over his cheek, making her soothe the minor injury.

“There…” He murmured with a dark, hungry gleam in his eyes. “Now we’re even.”

The bristles on his cheek tickled her palm and the way he licked his lips caused her heart to beat a wild, unsteady rhythm. Sierra began to get aroused by his maleness; by the strength and power that she knew he could wield. She knew what he wanted at that moment, and it wasn’t to make sweet love in the warmth of the sun’s rays. He wanted a rough, raw fuck to burn away the resentment he was harboring for her, and she wanted it just as badly.

Without warning, he yanked her body flush against his. Sierra gasped as her curves met his muscled flesh and he groaned at her womanly softness. Just being in his arms was enough to make her pussy tingle, but she fought to get her lust under control. She yearned to show him that she was nobody’s property and nobody’s whore—least of all his—the arrogant bastard. But that was easier said than done at this proximity. When the heat and moisture from his skin soaked through the silk of her nightie, beading her sensitive nipples and turning her resolve to mush. Then there was the matter of his erection, which pressed firmly into her stomach, demanding the kind of attention only a hard, throbbing cock could crave. The meager towel he wore could neither hide nor disguise the fact that he was well endowed—long and thick and swollen with desire.

“You’ve missed my touch, haven’t you, darling?” Tom purred as he leaned in, burying his nose in her softly layered curls.

“No.” Sierra defiantly replied, stubborn to the bitter end.

The Brit released a husky laugh, pulling back to see her face and the bratty grin etched upon it. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll have you screaming ‘yes’ in a minute.”

Then his lips were on hers, stealing her breath with hot, bruising kisses. The low moan that sounded in the back of her throat let him know that she approved. He groaned as he tasted her sweetness, slowly fucking his tongue in and out of her mouth to savor the lingering hints of coffee and cream. He couldn’t stop his hands from roaming, letting his large open palms drag over her tits and clutch possessively at her hips before they slid down to her perfect bubble butt. He grabbed her ass with relish, drew his hand back to land a vicious smack, then groped her fleshy round cheeks again.

Sierra pulled away from his kisses to reach down and yank his towel off. She bit her lip at the sight of his manhood, intimately sandwiched between them like an ivory tower made of steel. The veins there were prominent, pulsing, and the drop of precum on his beautifully mushroomed head was as tempting as a cherry on an ice cream sundae. The whimper of need that escaped her was not lost on him.

“That’s a good girl. Have a nice, long look at my cock. I know how much you want it.” Tom whispered, nipping at the lobe of her ear before he lowered his mouth and peppered her neck with kisses.

“And what if I don’t want it?” Sierra asked, blinking up at him with innocent brown eyes while she teasingly raked her nails down his chest.

The Brit growled, in no mood for her little mind games. “I’ll fucking give it to you anyway.”

In one swift, graceful maneuver, he picked her up and roughly deposited her on the granite counter, indirectly punishing her spankable ass. Spurred on by the way she giggled and bounced, Tom ripped the lingerie from her body, then tore her skimpy lace panties to shreds. By the time he took his place between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance, they were both lust-crazed and panting.

“God, you’re soaking wet.” Tom declared, rubbing the tip of his dick up and down her slit to get himself evenly coated. “Mmm, such a tight, hot, hungry little pussy. You’re always ready for me, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, babe. You weren’t the only man in the room five minutes ago.” Sierra replied, provoking him.

Tom’s jaw immediately clenched and she swore that the color of his eyes went from dark blue to an even darker shade of green as jealousy wholly consumed him. She knew exactly which buttons to push to turn him into a sexual savage.

“Fucking whore.” He snarled through the gritted pearls of his white teeth.

Forgoing the slow, torturous method of penetration, he flicked his hips and slammed into her in one fluid thrust. Sierra cried out with obvious delight, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold on for the bumpy ride. Tom didn’t waste any time setting a hard, fast rhythm. His hands locked like clamps on her hips, keeping her lower half steady as he pounded her with the deep, brutal strokes she craved.

Sierra’s hips rocked forward and she tightened his thighs around him, eager for more. When he drove deeper and hit that magic spot, her toes curled as she shamelessly screamed his name.

“That’s right, kitten. Let everyone know you’re mine. Scream the only name that’s allowed to fall from your lips.” Tom groaned as he continued to drive into her.

He bent his head to close his mouth over one stiff nipple, capturing the other with his fingers, he began to pinch and pull. Sierra arched into him, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Fuck…feels so good. Harder, baby.” She moaned.

He was more than happy to oblige, twisting the chocolate nub in his fingers while he greedily sucked on the bud in his mouth. Then he switched to her other breast and redoubled his efforts, hammering into her relentlessly. Even though she knew there were other people in the house, Sierra couldn’t keep quiet. Tom was killing her pussy, he was absolutely slaying it—knowing how to grind and pump and drill his dick in ways that had her whole body shaking.

Breakfast was burning on the stove and Tom’s knees were banging loudly against one of the bottom cabinets, sure to leave bruises, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was fucking. All they were concerned about was getting each other off.

“You like being taken roughly, don’t you?” Tom asked, lifting his head to claim her lips.

“Yes.” Sierra replied when their mouths broke apart.

They continued to rut furiously, eye-to-eye, bodies pressed close, their lips only a breath away from touching. Then Tom’s hand was in her disheveled curls, wrenching a gasp from her in a passionate display of dominance.

“You like it when I pull your hair?”

“Yes.” She winced.

Pleased with her answer, his hand moved lower.

“You like it when I choke this pretty neck?” He asked, giving her throat a firm squeeze.

Sierra moaned and nodded until he let go, shuddering as his hand traveled even lower. She wanted to look down and see where it might be going next, but judging by the fierce expression on Tom’s face, he didn’t want her to break eye contact. The slap that landed on her right breast was sharp and sudden, but there was something about it that made her hips buck and her pussy cream. She barely got out a squeal before he swiftly slapped the other breast, and despite the blossoming pain, Sierra issued a guttural moan.

“You little slut.” Tom smugly declared, giving her a few more swats. “That really gets you worked up, doesn’t it? Oh god, I can feel it. You’re dripping all over my cock and leaking onto the counter. You like it when I smack your tits, sweetness? Do you enjoy being manhandled? Do you like it when I own you?”

Sierra’s nails scored down his back as she eagerly raised her pelvis and met his forceful thrusts. “Fuck, baby…yes, yes, _yes_! Fucking own me!”

Tom’s handsome features split into a triumphant smile, making it obvious that he enjoyed hearing those words. His fingers dug into her buttery brown skin as he gripped her gorgeous curves without mercy and planted a contradictory tender kiss on her lips. Then he increased his pace, putting all of his energy into fucking her. The grunts of pleasure that worked their way up from his heaving chest mingled with the wet, sticky sounds of his tireless pounding. They were a mess of tangled limbs, tousled hair, and bruised, sweaty flesh as they continued to chase each other to the finish line.

For Sierra, the urge to come was sudden, and before she knew it, she was screaming her husband’s name. Tom’s blue eyes blazed, filled with a stunning mixture of lust and pride as he avidly watched her unravel.

“Don’t stop, kitten, come on. Come all over my cock. Mmmm, fucking hell yes. You come so good for me.” He said, groaning encouragements.

Sierra’s body shuddered as she found her release. Getting lost in the ecstasy of coming undone, she clawed Tom’s back with one hand and tugged on his hair with the other while her walls spasmed around his pistoning shaft.

The rhythmic clenching of her core sent electric sparks sizzling through him and it was enough to push him over the edge. He buried his face in the crook of Sierra’s neck and sank his teeth into her skin with a growl as his climax fiercely exploded. His brutal thrusts became quick, sloppy jerks until his hips could move no longer. Crushing Sierra to his chest, he held himself deep and groaningly spilled his seed.

They stayed that way for several minutes, just kissing and caressing while Tom’s cock gradually went soft.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” He asked, gazing up at her with puppy dog eyes.

Sierra pecked his lips and smiled. “As if I could say no after that.”


End file.
